As Latvia moves towards the Sept. 20 referendum on joining the European Union, recent events have unexpectedly created uncertainty over whether a yes vote can be confidently expected. These events include a tightening of Latvia’s budget and slashing of some services, confusions over social security and other payments, mooted rationalisation of local government boundaries and functions, and some clear panic in government ranks about increasing opposition to the EU.

This chain of events has been added to what are now regarded as “traditional” arguments against joining the EU: fear of a flood of migration, of rising prices and of uncertainty in the agricultural sector, as well as general scepticism over the tangible benefits that individuals will get from joining the EU. While proponents of joining the EU have tended to regard the referendum as a foregone conclusion in the past, and have tended to denigrate or dismiss opponents, they are now clearly working much harder to get their message across.

The force of all these concerns was demonstrated in the results of a July opinion poll by Latvijas fakti that showed an 8 percent drop since June—down to 49.6 percent—in the proportion of Latvian citizens who said they would vote yes in the referendum. Opponents meanwhile grew by 10 percent and now represent 34.4 percent of respondents, while those uncertain dropped slightly to 15.9 percent.

The shock of the poll was in seeing support fall below the decisive 50 percent line, and to experience such a massive fall in just one month. Some commentators have stressed that the key will be the number of people who participate in the referendum, as many opponents simply will not vote. However, the July survey has itself electrified opposition and made the government even more jumpy.

The issue of the state budget does have a link to the EU, but not in the way it has been exploited by opponents. In line with EU demands, all candidate nations have to get their budget deficit down to 2 percent of Gross Domestic Product. In Latvia’s case this was a relatively small step, the previous deficit being 3 percent. Moreover, Latvia’s economy and with it government revenue have grown strongly so that there will actually be an increase of some LVL 150 million in budget expenditure in the coming year, making the needed savings relatively small.

But when all ministries nevertheless were asked to submit plans for economising, popular fear exploded that this would mean a reduction in the already meagre social security payments. The government said social security payments would not be cut and would in fact be increased in line with normal cost-of-living increases, but the damage was done: opponents of the EU could link joining the EU with undermining pensions. Subsequent plans to have budget cuts include a reduction of the police force and some other direct services have again created fears, which seem to now be systematically channelled into anti-EU sentiment.

The government also received poor press for its urging of ministers and coalition members to “talk up” the budget specifically to counter the “Eurosceptics”—a move widely seen as panicking and trying once more to pull the wool over the electorate’s eyes.

And it got worse for the government. In June, it revealed a plan for sweeping reform of local government, seeking to rationalise the number of local government authorities. This plan has nothing as such to do with the EU, which does not prescribe how local government should be organised. But there is much jockeying among local authorities for how eventual EU funds for regions might be accessed.

So again the issue was linked to joining the European Union and how it would reduce local sovereignty. And this growing opposition to the EU has in turn reinforced those who do not want local government reform on the scale envisaged.

Bad timing? Or bad politics? One lingering problem for the government is that its information program on the referendum and the EU has been generally seen as a costly, undiluted propaganda exercise urging a yes vote rather than giving useful and objective information about pros and cons and what can realistically expected if Latvia does join the EU.

This itself is only a part of deeper scepticism about politicians who urge joining the EU for their own career interests and the possibility of getting to well-paid positions in Brussels. The party that was most clearly identified with promoting the EU and with such a self-serving interests, Latvijas ceļš (Latvia’s Way), was punished severely in the last election.

The battle is far from over. Those outside Latvia often see joining he EU as an obvious step to take and one barely worth debating. For those on the ground in Latvia, it raises a host of other concerns about the political process and politicians that are hard to counter.

The euphoria of being invited to join the NATO defense alliance has barely abated, and now an equally significant moment for Latvia has been reached at the European Union summit in Copenhagen, during which the three Baltic states were among 10 countries invited to join the EU.

As with the NATO decision, the final days before the Dec. 12-13 summit saw various rumours of delay, possible treachery and unresolved differences. Denmark currently holds the presidency of the Council of the European Union and engaged in a furious shuttle diplomacy to bed down arrangements and ensure a smooth outcome.

And what are the bones of contention?

Milk, meat, fruit, grains, nuts—not to forget potatoes… and tomatoes. Europe, which considers itself the most sophisticated of unions, the paragon of peaceful coexistence and no doubt the pinnacle of western civilisation, is constantly embroiled in disputes over its most ancient area of production—agriculture. And the potential expansion only exacerbates already bitter conflicts.

Besides the three Baltic states, the candidate countries are Cyprus, the Czech Republic, Hungary, Malta, Poland, Slovakia and Slovenia. For all of them the prospect of joining the EU has essentially two quite contradictory faces.

On the positive front, there is the lure of Europe’s wealth: access to a huge market to which candidate countries have had only limited access up to now. For hard-pressed farmers there is the promise of subsidies. For politicians and bureaucrats, not insignificantly, there is the prospect of gaining glittering (or at least highly paid) careers in Brussels, in the European Parliament or the many other branches of the EU bureaucratic Babylon—a significant reason why so many prominent politicians are enthusiastically in favour of joining Europe. And beyond all this, for the Eastern European countries as well, there is something more symbolic but equally tangible: the feeling of having “rejoined Europe,” of being recognised as a part of Europe’s own cultural heritage after half a century or more of isolation from it.

But that is only one side of the story. The notion of joining the EU has always been controversial, for membership also implies abiding by its rules and norms on a whole plethora of issues. The EU’s farm subsidies are famous (or infamous), but they come together with a determined effort to reduce the agricultural sector in terms of employment and even in some cases production, rationalising industries and forcing many farmers to quit the land. Industries as prominent as the Danish dairy industry now only have a fraction of the farmers they had a few decades ago, and this tinier fraction can now through efficiencies produce just as much as in the past. Internal quotas limit the amount each country is allowed to produce. And the battles with French and Italian wine and vegetable growers are regularly on the front page as opposition to rationalisation grows, resembling more skirmishes from the Thirty Years’ War than orderly and civilised decision-making.

There is little chance these scenes will not be repeated in, say, the huge Polish agricultural sector. Latvia has had to fight hard to get acceptable quotas for its own milk, meat and vegetable production, and many small producers fear they will have no chance to make a living when asked to compete with huge Euro agribusinesses.

As all candidate countries will hold referenda on the desirability of joining the EU, the mix of positives and negatives make predicting referenda outcomes difficult. The latest polls in Latvia suggest a knife-edge of around 50 percent in favour of joining.

And there is more. Joining the EU means abiding by all sorts of other rules—on budgetary deficits, on borrowing and lending, on privatisation and restructuring on freedom of movement of people, as well as steady pressure for all countries to adopt the Euro currency. In all this, there are pluses and minuses for Latvia. One aspect that the EU negotiations have picked on is the need to rid Latvian institutions of corruption and introduce a more transparent and modern judicial system. Latvia will need to work hard on these aspects to have appropriate institutional design by May 2004, when the candidate countries are expected to become full-fledged members of the EU.

For Latvia and Estonia particularly there was another, more poignant issue in the process of getting invitations from NATO and the EU. For nearly a decade now, the two countries have had to endure sustained European pressure to change various aspects of their citizenship or language laws. In a bizarre process, mainly Russian objections to these laws have been taken up by European institutions, which in turn have pressed Estonia and Latvia. The series of negotiations, conflicts, retreats and compromises has been a lesson in the pressures that can be exerted on countries even by supposedly “friendly” powers.

This complicated set of positive and negative aspects of the EU means that after Copenhagen, the next two years will see an increasing level of exhaustion and not a little bitterness as countries struggle to meet an evolving set of demands on their institutions and economies to be deemed worthy of membership. And final accession may also be viewed from quite varied perspectives. For some, it will be welcome back to Europe. For others, it will be farewell to a brief sovereignty. For many, it will be welcome to the daily potato politics of the EU.

Last week’s decision by NATO to invite Latvia and six other former Soviet bloc countries to join the organisation is certainly a momentous occasion. The striking photograph of red-clad President Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga having her hand ceremoniously kissed by Jacques Chirac as she stood amid the other dark-suited leaders of the western world provides an unforgettable memento of the Prague summit.

But behind the euphoria, questions remain about the meaning of joining NATO, the guarantees and obligations that will come with this, and the hard road that Latvia still has to travel to realise its membership. The Prague summit formally issued an invitation, but membership would com after fulfilling a number of conditions ranging from the amount of military spending to administrative reform to social policy issues. Anachronistically, even the U.S. Senate has to give ultimate approval as well. The final act of joining should come in 2004 for the candidates, which besides Latvia are Estonia, Bulgaria, Lithuania, Romania, Slovakia and Slovenia. An earlier post-Cold War expansion of NATO in 1999 brought the Czech Republic, Hungary and Poland into the pact.

Latvia’s desire to join NATO, like that of the other candidates, stems from a fundamental concern: to gain protection from western countries against any potential threat. The most likely threat is rarely mentioned by name but is overwhelmingly understood as Russia. This is a particular concern for the Baltic states that were formerly incorporated in the U.S.S.R. and for which memories of the Soviet years are still particularly sharp.

But curiously, this seemingly straightforward desire is now riddled with paradox. Is the NATO of today still the same creature as the Cold War warrior explicitly formed to counterbalance the Soviet Union? In the early 1990s when Latvia’s desire to “return to Europe” was first expressed and membership of NATO mooted, there was an overwhelmingly hostile reception from Russia. It would be unacceptable for especially the Baltic States to join NATO, Russia warned, and such membership would bring about an irreconcilable breach between Moscow and NATO. Now, hardly a murmur has been heard from Russia, whose foreign minister also attended the Prague summit as an interested but not antagonistic party.

What has changed?

The Washington Post in a perceptive editorial argued that NATO has long since lost its chief role as a military warrior and is now more a club of like-minded governments. Moreover, the expansion of NATO membership is coming at the same time as NATO included Russia itself more centrally into the functioning of the alliance (through the “Partnership for Peace” arrangement where consultation with Russia takes place on important issues). Rather than NATO now confronting Russia, NATO provides a window to the West for Russia.

Other actions have also been important, for example NATO’s complete agreement that the Chechen conflict is an internal matter for Russia alone and Russia’s own subsequent jumping onto the anti-terrorist bandwagon. In sum, the objections to the Baltic states joining NATO have withered away largely because Russia itself is very comfortable with NATO as it presently functions.

Despite this, the importance for the Baltics of being able to join NATO should not be underestimated. This is the first time in history that the Baltics in particular have had anything like a security guarantee from powerful western forces. America’s relentless push to expand NATO (the Europeans were always less unanimous on this) has yielded results.

Yet this in turn only leads to a deeper paradox.

It would be foolish to believe there were no longer threats to Latvia’s security as result of NATO membership. However, a crucial point is that of all the kinds of threats that might be envisaged from Russia, that of direct old-fashioned military invasion (against which ostensibly NATO would react to defend Latvia) is also by far the least likely. Threats to security can come in much less military ways: by diplomatic pressure, economic blackmail, using international organisations to push agendas on matters such as human rights, or manufacturing incidents and creating political instability. Watch this space.

Finally, there is the other question of just how well prepared Latvia is to fully contribute to NATO. NATO makes heavy demands, including having its members committed to spending 2 percent of their gross domestic product on defence (Latvia spends a little more than 1 percent at the moment but plans to rapidly raise this). Upgrading of defence capability, committing troops to NATO missions and re-equipping are also a must.

Beyond this, however, there are perhaps more difficult concerns over the ability of the candidate countries to avoid corruption, protect against espionage and accomplishing bureaucratic reforms. For the Baltic states there were even more demands: the position of the Russian minority and even Baltic participation in the Holocaust were all points of discussion with NATO.

A telling point here was that in the week before the NATO summit in Prague, the press reported (from undisclosed or shadowy sources) that the U.S. defence establishment was not happy with the security risks that countries such as Latvia presented for secret NATO information. In their view, corruption, the lack of checking of officials’ past credentials and generally lax security meant these countries could not be trusted with NATO information. Despite already several years of discussion and painstakingly detailed visits and inspections, this deliberate leak seems to have been timed precisely to keep candidate countries such as Latvia off-balance in the lead-up to the summit.

Latvia’s outgoing Foreign Minister Indulis Bērziņš fumed that these accusations were malicious and had never been raised formally with the Latvian government. This is an almost predictable sequence of events now in Eastern European politics: whenever progress seems to be made towards a particular outcome, last-minute doubts are raised (often from oblique sources) that particularly point to possible corruption or weakness to undermine the efforts. As it turned out, this behind the scenes criticism of certain countries was finally put to rest by U.S. Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, who urged all candidate countries to institute the necessary reforms in their infrastructure that would enable them to be trusted with all NATO secrets.

Joining NATO is certainly one step forward for Latvia, but the road to security is still full of traps and dangers.